


Of Course

by phoenixburncold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Happy Ending, M/M, Nearly Human Castiel, SPN UA, SPN Universe Alteration, SPN universe if Metatron had been killed, half human Castiel, long fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:04:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixburncold/pseuds/phoenixburncold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Castiel had killed Metatron that night after the Scribe killed Dean? Half-human Castiel with Dean and Sam. Just a little idea in my head that I've been working on for a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Course

**Author's Note:**

> Needed a break from my other stuff and wanted to actually _finish_ something haha. Still working on my other stuff, I promise!

Dean coughed up blood, the thick red liquid spilling over his chin to stain his shirt further. He was vaguely aware of being dragged backwards by familiar hands that were locked around his upper chest. By all rights he should be dead – the shotgun blast had hit Dean square in the gut even though he had tried to scramble out of the way. ‘Course, by all rights he shoulda stayed dead when that hellhound dragged him to Hell some eight years ago – so Dean wasn’t complaining…much. Barely conscious with blood seeping out the multiple wounds and his mouth, Dean figured he had about ten minutes before he bled to death. Bleeding out in the middle of forest was not the way he wanted to go, but hey, what can you do when you can barely feel your extremities and your eyes won’t stay open for more than ten seconds?

Weapons fired - shotgun blasts and pistol rounds - but Dean was being dragged in the opposite direction. Not that he could grip a weapon when he was using both hands in a failing attempt to staunch the multiple wounds from shotgun shells. Still, it would have been nice to gank at least one more thing before he died…especially since Dean was pretty sure nothing was gonna bring him back this time.

The labored breathing of whoever dragged him was familiar but it took Dean a frighteningly long time to recognize it as Castiel’s. _Aw damn_ , Dean thought. If Cass was dragging him instead of flying him it meant the spell hadn’t worked and everything they had done up to now – including Dean eating that blast – was wasted effort. _Definitely_ not how Dean wanted to go out.

Briefly the hunter wondered if Cass should have just imprisoned Metatron instead of killing him the day the Scribe-wanna-be-God had killed Dean (another 'by all rights he should be dead' scenario). The hunter quickly discarded the thought. Metadouche may have known the location of Castiel’s remaining grace, but he had also been privy to knowledge no other angel knew. Plus he was a slippery bastard. No doubt Metatron would have brought more evil than good had he lived. Besides, Cass got by well enough as it was.

Unofficially Heaven’s own hunter, Castiel was tasked with bringing back angels who either refused to return to Heaven or went completely rogue, doing their own agenda. Those slotted for Heaven’s prison were given a choice – spend eternity in a prison cell or give up their grace and live as humans under the careful watch of Heaven. Most chose option 2 – to Castiel’s ever surprise. It made sense to Dean – a human lifetime of freedom verses an eternity of being in prison, he’d pick human every time. Castiel was in good standing with Heaven and had become a sort-of mentor to the angels turned human. Sometimes Dean thought Cass was on the road more than Sam and Dean now, but at least they all had a home in the Bunker.

Even though Castiel now had enough grace to live as a half angel comfortably, Sam, Dean and Cass – with the fleeting aid of trusted angels every once and a while – continued the search for Castiel’s grace. That was why there were in the backwoods of Kentucky in the first place. Well, that and the nest of vamps that was apparently bigger than their scouting had suggested.

Dean sputtered a cough, painfully aware of how weak he was. Castiel’s breath was ragged but he kept moving, dragging Dean through the forest with relative speed. Dean didn’t know how Cass was doing it. They had to use practically all the grace Castiel had in him to work the spell. 

They had brought a vial of grace along so when the spell worked Cass could power-up and fly to retrieve his grace but it was the first blasted by the four shotgun-wielding vamps. Dean, who had been standing beside the stump they had laid the vial on, was the second.

“Hang on Dean,” Castiel gasped. “We’re…nearly…there.”

Dean had no idea where ‘there’ was. He was catching glimpses of the forest when he managed to open his eyes, but it was midnight, the forest was thick, and the moonlight was weak. He gave up and just kept his eyes closed. Faintly he heard more weapons fire but it was far away now. Or maybe it was just Dean’s sense of hearing that was fading. 

Dean moaned, his hands losing his grip around his torso. His fingers dragged on the ground like his heels, disturbing blades of grass and the leaves that had fallen early. Blood gushed and oozed, dripped and splattered. His shirt was a ruined mess of cloth, flesh, and blood. Dean was hanging on only because of his stubbornness. 

But even stubbornness has limits.

Dean moaned. “Okay,” Castiel said, gently resting Dean on the ground. “Okay, you’re okay. Well you’re not okay but you will be soon.”

“Sure,” Dean moaned. He half believed Cass, knowing both angel and hunter had gotten out of things like this before. But the pain was stabbing and searing and aching and he felt like he had lost a gallon of blood. Dean opened his eyes again, looking at the sky above. He could barely see anything anymore. He caught a glimpse of the Impala and Castiel’s legs to his side. _Oh_ , Dean thought, _this is ‘here’_. The hunter tried to cough but the sputter was even weaker now. He thought he heard Castiel rummaging above him but wasn’t sure.

Something was above him. Dean’s eyes weren’t focusing well now, but he sensed it. He forced himself to try to focus, but he was tired.

He knew this feeling. Dean had died many times, he knew the exhaustion that preceded the blackness of Death. But now there was a new Death, a Reaper that had taken the rank of Death just as Crowley had taken the rank of King of Hell when Lucifer was sent to the Cage. And this Death hated the Winchesters. There was no chance for him to come back if he let the exhaustion win. He blinked and focused again.

Dean could see the reaper hovering over him clearly now. She was quite beautiful, skin like chocolate and brown hair full of curls. But it was her deep brown eyes that made him think of Cassidy for the first time in years. Once, he had thought she was the love of his life, until another’s lips claimed both his own lips and his heart. One could even say Dean’s very soul belonged to him now. 

Dean remembered everything.

He remembered their first kiss – July 4th. Toeing the line between happily buzzed and drunk, the sky lit up with colorful explosions, free, for the moment, of severe world-crushing crisis, Dean had tugged on the lapels of the familiar trench coat and pulled Castiel’s lips to his own. The angel, surprised at first, quickly joined the kiss. After nearly a minute later – or was it a century? – they pulled away and Sam merely looked at them with a knowing smile.

He remembered the first time they had sex; in Purgatory no less. Three days after he had finally found Castiel. After months of realizing he missed Castiel in more ways, in deeper ways than he missed Sam, months of searching, fighting, and killing, finally he had found Castiel, thanks to Benny. After a few days angel and vampire had reached a neutral relationship and Dean didn’t have to constantly watch one to make sure they wouldn’t kill the other.

Dean relaxed. In the safety of the hasty lean-to they made, Benny outside on watch, Dean had pulled closer to Castiel simply because he could. He had been surprised by the angel’s sudden lurch toward him, his lips pressing against Dean’s and his hands reaching for the hunter. One thing led to another and for the first time since he had landed in this new hell, Dean was at peace, his head on Castiel’s chest after tugging on their clothes again. Dean remembered sighing, ear pressed against Castiel’s heart, the angel’s hand stroking his head, lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

The reaper came closer, promising more of that peace in a whisper, her hand hovering over his chest. Mute but defiant, Dean realized he had lost all sensation in his body. A soft, familiar noise sounded behind him but Dean could no longer remember what it was. His thoughts stuck together, his eyes focusing only on the wispy Reaper.

A burst of light blinded him and for a moment Dean wondered if he was dead.

Then he felt a familiar hand on his chest and Dean took a large breath, life filling him again. He reached out instinctively and Castiel was right there, grabbing the hunter as desperately as Dean grasped for him.

“I’ve got you Dean.”

Dean took another breath before his thoughts started working again. Castiel was obviously there. Where was – 

“Sammy?” Dean gasped.

“Right here.”

Sam knelt at Dean’s other side and Dean reached out a hand to make sure he was really there. He gripped the front of Sam’s shirt but lost his strength. Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder, assuring him that Sam was there. “I’m right here,” Sam said again.

Dean looked at him and smiled before turning back to Castiel. The angel looked at him, sweat on his brow. Dean realized the noise he had heard earlier was the sound of grace in the air, freed from one of the pack of vials Castiel kept in the trunk of the Impala ‘just in case’. Dean loved his careful angel.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. “I healed the wound but I don’t have enough grace left to replenish the blood you lost.”

“It’s fine,” Dean replied, slightly breathless. “The vamps?”

“Dead,” Sam answered.

Dean nodded. “Good.” Black was starting to edge into his vision. “I think…I think I’m gonna…”

Dean slumped into Castiel’s arms. Sam and Castiel exchanged a look over the unconscious hunter’s head.

~~~

“Cass I’m fine!” Dean said, throwing Castiel’s arm off him. It had been two days since that night in the forest and Castiel wouldn’t stop babying the hunter. “I’m a grown man dammit, stop treating me like a kid!” Castiel continued to shadow him but at least he wasn’t holding the hunter’s arm anymore. Dean gave him a withering glance but the angel ignored him. Dean heaved a sigh before opening the fridge, grabbing the beer from it, and popping the bottle open.

“You nearly died,” Castiel stated simply.

Dean sighed. He couldn’t refute that. So Dean simply took a large gulp from the beer and headed back to the table where his computer was. Sam was being nerdy in the Library and Dean was surfing the internet for anything that caught his fancy. Castiel was his ever present shadow. And to be honest Dean still wasn’t feeling a hundred percent; he had lost a lot of blood that night and he was still a little wobbly, though he tried to hide it.

As Dean sat down at the laptop, Castiel sat opposite of him and resumed reading from the book he had pulled out earlier that day. Dean knew the angel could read that whole thing in less than a minute, but he also knew Cass had developed a pleasure of feeling the paper under his fingertips, and the brief moment of anticipation between finishing the last word on the page and reading the first word on the opposite side. Dean looked over the laptop just to watch Castiel read sometimes. He had discovered if the angel was extremely interested in the subject his mouth would move, his lips and tongue moving silently as he read. Dean smiled fondly at Castiel, his scarred heart filled with love; the balm to his soul. Castiel looked up, catching Dean’s smile and the look in his eyes.

“What?” Cass asked softly.

Dean shook his head, lips still in a smile for a moment longer. “Nothing,” he replied, before focusing on the laptop screen again.

A few hours later Dean headed for bed. Castiel followed, just within reach. As Dean walked through the hallway he stumbled over his boot, his hands thrown up to either catch the wall or protect his face from smashing into the floor. 

Neither happened. 

Castiel gripped Dean’s arm and held him close. Dean, whose breath vanished in a sound of surprise, took in a new breath, smelling the familiar scent of Castiel. Instead of pushing away from the angel he pulled closer, taking in Castiel’s warmth, his head dropping against Castiel’s shoulder and his arms around him. The angel made a soft noise in the back of his throat before wrapping his arms around Dean. 

“Sleep with me tonight?” Dean asked softly.

“Of course.”

Dean smiled in the angel’s shoulder. He always slept better when Castiel was next to him.

~~~

Dean murmured a moment before waking, keeping his eyes closed. An arm was draped over his waist, pressing the band of his shorts deeper into his skin. A knee was just against Dean’s lower thigh and the breath from Castiel’s nose gently breezed against Dean’s shoulder. Dean hummed, eyes still closed, before turning onto his side, careful of Castiel’s arm. He draped his own arm over Castiel and pulled him closer. While Castiel was mostly angel, there were a few human things he still had to do. Sleeping was one of them. Dean snuggled against the angel in a way that he used to be ashamed of but had given up the feeling years ago. It was just too comforting to have Castiel so close, so warm, and so _there_. He could never share this feeling with another person. No one else knew everything he had been through, no one else had been there for him so many times, in so many ways, unflinchingly stable. Castiel hummed in his sleep as Dean pressed against him, unconsciously aware of Dean. The hunter smiled, placed a quick kiss on the angel’s forehead and shifted his head, finally opening his eyes. He loved it when he woke up first, it meant he got to watch firsthand the beauty of an angel waking up. Dean pressed another kiss on Castiel’s forehead then went lower to lightly kiss his closed lids before pulling away just enough to look at Castiel’s face.

The angel murmured before shifting and Dean knew he was waking now. He watched with soft eyes as Castiel first took a deeper breath and stretched lightly. Sensing Dean’s arm and the way his body was positioned against his own, Castiel opened his eyes. Sky blue, his eyes were clouded only a moment before becoming piercingly bright, seeing Dean watching him. Unconcerned, Castiel shifted and yawned before reaching up to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Hidden under the layers of skin Castiel had put over it was the angel’s handprint, forever marking Dean in more ways than one.

“Morning,” Dean said softly, the smile playing at his lips had only been witnessed by three beings and one was looking at in that moment.

“Good morning,” Castiel replied, returning the smile before shifting and kissing the hunter. After a few moments they separated but stayed under the sheets for several minutes, simply because they could. 

“We should probably get up,” Castiel said finally.

Dean sighed, twisting to glance at the clock. “Yea,” he sighed. For another long moment they didn’t move. “You first,” Dean suggested.

Castiel rolled his eyes at the hunter (to which Dean grinned at) before shifting away and sitting up. The sheets fell, revealing the bare skin of Castiel’s torso. He pulled himself off the bed, his scrunched shorts falling into place as Castiel stood. Dean watched him, half smiling as Castiel stretched lightly. Then, between the space of Dean’s slow blink, he was dressed.

Dean hid his disappointment. When Castiel was feeling especially human – or aroused – he would carefully (read: slowly) take off the shorts and put on his normal clothes. If it was the latter, Castiel usually never made it past half buttoning his shirt before Dean launched himself at the angel.

Dean could use a good romp after everything he had been through the past few days, but he figured Castiel wouldn’t go for that until Dean could make it from the main area to his bedroom without falling over himself. Castiel walked over to the other side of the bed, Dean turning to follow him, and Castiel held out his hands. “Your turn,” he told Dean. 

The hunter grinned and reached for Cass. “Go get your cup of sugar,” Dean teased as he stood up before flashing the angel a grin. While Cass didn’t need to eat or drink, he had found coffee still had a good taste for him, but he dumped so much sugar and creamer in it when Dean had accidentally reached for the wrong cup he nearly chocked on the sweetness. Dean thought it was appropriate for Castiel – in principle he was a stern soldier; but once you got a taste of the real him you learned just how sugary he was.

Castiel shook his head at Dean but smiled. “See you out there,” the angel breathed before stealing another kiss and leaving.

~~~

Dean tripped over the small step leading up to the main room and swore as he caught himself, straightening. Castiel looked at him from his seat at the table on the other side of the room, concern on his face. “Dean are you – ?”

“I’m fine, Cass,” Dean snapped. He made his way to his laptop and turned it on. Sam looked at Castiel over the rim of his coffee cup but said nothing. “Who was it that scouted that damn vampire nest anyway?” Dean asked, still annoyed.

“Uh, you,” Sam said after a pause.

Dean gave him a withering glare. “And you never checked up on it?”

“Didn’t know I had to,” Sam shot back, even though he knew Dean was more annoyed at himself than anyone else.

Dean grumbled under his breath a moment before saying, “Yea, well next time do. Then maybe I won’t make out with reapers trying to rip my soul from my broken-ass body.”

“You kissed the reaper?” Castiel asked, equal parts confused and hurt.

“No,” Dean said, glancing at Cass before trying to backpedal. “I just meant – ” he glanced at Sam but the younger brother was offering no assistance. Dean rubbed a hand hard over his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “It’s an expression,” he finished weakly.

Castiel looked at Sam who merely shrugged. The angel stood, went to the kitchen, and returned with a cup of coffee, which he gently set in front of Dean on the table. Dean looked up at hearing the sound and his gaze softened as he glanced from the cup to Castiel. Silently, he lifted a hand and placed it on Castiel’s shoulder, gaze on his lover’s eyes. The angel smiled, patted Dean’s back gently and returned to his side of the table and the book he was reading from. Sam hid his smile behind his coffee cup, even know he knew neither of them would look at him to notice it anyway.

Dean wrapped his hands around the cup and drank from it as the laptop started up, a thoughtful look creeping over him as time passed. “When I’m back to a hundred percent are we gonna try it again?” Dean asked, splitting his gaze from Castiel to Sam. “The spell to find your grace, I mean.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, looking down. “Well I don’t see why.”

Both hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “Why’s that?” Dean asked.

Still Castiel refused to look up, gaze locked on the book before him. “Well…because it worked the first time.”

“What?!”

“Cass, are you serious?” Sam asked.

Castiel nodded, clearing his throat.

“Then why the hell didn’t you get your grace?” Dean asked.

Now Castiel’s eyes shot up, anger darkening the blue orbs. “Well at the time I was dragging you out of certain death.”

Dean wasn’t about to back down after a little glare. He’d faced far worse. “Yea, _at the time_. It’s been three days. You should’ve gotten it by now.”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Cass, that’s weaker than the coffee you like and you know it.”

Castiel’s gaze dropped again. He took a breath and then sighed. “Because,” he started, looking up at Dean with hooded eyes. “If I take my grace back…I’ll be…a complete angel again. I won’t need…anything.”

Dean swallowed. He had known Cass long enough to read the great paragraphs between his words. As a full angel, Castiel would have no need for sleep – no ability to do so. He could still eat or drink if he forced himself, but he would have no reason to; in fact it would be more of a hindrance to him. And sex…well, it would be harder to do – absolutely no pun intended. As a full angel Castiel could focus on his physical body to do the act, but it took a decent part of his concentration. Sex had improved exponentially since Castiel’s humanity had become a greater piece of the angel’s makeup.

“Oh,” Dean managed.

Sam let out a long breath. He knew the angel had gathered a sense of enjoyment from the things the hunters considered mundane. Sleeping and drinking coffee were just a few of the simple pleasures Castiel had in the two years he had been without his grace. It had been an equally entertaining and enlightening experience watching Castiel’s child-like wonder at feeling the cold touch of snow on his skin, the sheer awe at seeing a particularly beautiful sunset, the complete joy from receiving his first Christmas gifts.

Dean reached across the table to grip Castiel’s hand gently. Castiel looked up at the hunter and saw Dean’s eyes. “You still need your grace Cass.”

Castiel opened his mouth to protest but Dean lifted his other hand to stop him. “You need your grace. But you…you don’t have to…you know… _use_ it.”

Castiel blinked. He hadn’t thought of it like that.

“We should get it,” Dean continued. “Just so no one else does. And…and if you really need it, you’ll have it. It’s just a…safeguard.”

Castiel nodded and Dean smiled.

~~~

They pulled up to the building and Dean peered at it. “A library?” he asked. “Seriously?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t seem to have a lot of patrons,” the tall hunter replied, seeping a hand to show the empty parking lot.

“Does sound like something that douche would do,” Dean muttered before throwing the Impala into park. 

“He always was fond of books,” Castiel noted before they all got out.

“Alright,” Dean sighed. “Sam, watch the door.”

Sam nodded, pulling out the angel blade he had put in his jacket pocket.

Castiel flicked the lock on the front door and the two walked down the short flight of stairs. It smelled of old paper and dust and Castiel took a deep breath in, loving that mixture.

Dean sneezed four times in a row before wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Awesome,” the hunter muttered. 

Castiel smiled before he caught the sensation. “Dean,” Castiel breathed. “I can feel it.”

Dean looked at his lover, seeing the conflict in his face. “Hey,” he said, setting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “We’re just getting it to have it,” the hunter reminded him.

Castiel nodded, his eyes showing his gratitude. Dean smiled. “Let’s do this.”

~~~

“Of course he hid it,” Dean sighed, annoyed. They had been going through books for ten minutes now. “You can’t feel anything specific?”

Castiel shook his head from the other side of the bookcase. “I can sense it but it’s…spread out along the whole library.”

Dean let out a vented breath before pulling out another book and opening it. A slip of paper fell out, fluttering ungracefully to the ground. The hunter crouched, picking it up, and reading it. “Hey Cass,” Dean called. “Think I found something.”

Castiel came around bookcase to peer at the paper in Dean’s hand. “'What is the maddest thing a man can do?’” he read aloud, a puzzled look on his face.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked.

Castiel frowned. “I'm not certain. I believe it is a riddle,” Dean gave him a look and Castiel quickly finished with, “but I’m not sure what it is meant to imply.” He looked at Dean. “The last time I dealt with riddles, I was unsuccessful.”

Dean wrapped his hand across his eyes before rubbing them gently. His head ached and he was sure he’d be smelling old books and ink on his hands for weeks.

“Maybe we should have Sam join us,” Castiel suggested, knowing Dean was frustrated.

“No,” Dean said quickly, dropping his hand. “We can do this.” He sighed. “We just have to work through this. Besides, we need a lookout…just in case.”

Castiel nodded and returned to his side of the bookcase, redoubling his efforts. It was a few minutes later when Castiel pulled out a book that was much heavier than it should have been. His heart leapt for a moment as he opened the large book. He stared at the contents for a long moment before peeling the demon tablet from the wood case made for it inside the book.

“Find something?” Dean asked, seeing the angel paused.

Castiel sighed. “The demon tablet.”

“What?!” Dean swung around the bookcase, eyes wide. “Well I’ll be damned,” he breathed as he saw the tablet in Castiel’s hand. “That ought to get you some more brownie points in Heaven.”

Castiel sighed before looking up at Dean. “Perhaps the Bunker would be a safer place,” Cass suggested. 

“What?” Dean asked, coming closer. “Why?”

Castiel handed Dean the stone. “The tablets weren’t meant for angels or demons. They were meant for humanity. Mankind should have it.”

Dean nodded, holding the tablet for a long moment before settling it in the duffle bag nearby. “Wonder what other goodies Metatron left here,” the hunter said, returning to his side of the shelf.

“There is no telling,” Castiel replied before closing the book and returning it to the shelf.

It was another ten minutes before Castiel paused, hand hovering just above a book. “It’s a quote.”

“Huh?” Dean peeked over the row of books, eyebrows up.

“It’s a quote,” Castiel repeated, eyes skimming the titles now. “’What is the maddest thing a man can do?’ It’s from _Don Quixote_. The answer is ‘Let himself die.’ Quick Dean, find that book.”

Dean scanned the titles of the books before him. Not seeing it there, he looked up, thinking, eyes going back and forth. He went four bookcases back, following the signs at the side of them for the genres. When he got to the right shelf he skimmed through the titles. “Found it,” he cried, pulling the book out far more gently than he had the others. Castiel was by his side in a moment. Dean looked at him before carefully opening the book.

There, nestled in the hole specifically cut for it, was the vial, contents glowing that perfect angel blue. There was a moment both hunter and angel simply looked at it. Then, slowly, Castiel reached for it. He hesitated, fingers hovering just over the vial. Dean looked at Castiel and their eyes met. Dean nodded slowly, silently encouraging him. Castiel carefully removed the glass vial, holding it gently in his hand. It began to resonate as his skin warmed the grace within. Castiel looked at it for a long moment, watching it glow brighter as it recognized him. The angel vial was already on a metal chain, ready and waiting, calling in that angel piercing way that made Dean wince. Cass felt Dean cringe and closed his hand over the vial, silencing it. Dean closed the book, settling it back where he had found it.

Castiel turned to face Dean fully, taking Dean’s hand in his free hand. The hunter’s hand was scarred from a lifetime of fighting, calloused from weapons, and yet still somehow soft, if you knew where. Castiel knew his lover’s hands well, just as he knew his heart, and beneath, his soul. The half angel smiled before placing the vial in the hunter’s palm.

Dean looked at him, confused.

“Take it,” Castiel said, wrapping Dean’s fingers around the vial and gently pressing his closed hand against Dean’s heart.

“You sure?” Dean asked.

Castiel smiled. “Of course.”

~~~

They had sex that night. Castiel moved with Dean, his hands planted on the bed at either side of Dean. Castiel’s grace glowed around Dean’s neck, bound there by the cord Dean had scavenged out of the trunk of the Impala. The hunter never did like metal against his skin. The cord suited Dean, just as the glow of Castiel’s grace did.

In fact, as Dean rocked under Castiel, the half-angel realized just how perfect it fit Dean. It belonged there, his essence around Dean’s neck. That was another bit of humanity Castiel found he enjoyed – the poetry that came from his very heart, especially regarding Dean.

Dean caught Castiel’s eye and grinned in that devil-may-care smirk that riled Castiel like only a few things could. Cass bent further, kissing Dean as they moved together. He loved Dean; for Dean made him whole. He would always be there for Castiel, just as Castiel would always be there for Dean.

When the time came, when Castiel needed it most, he knew his grace would only be an arm’s length away.


End file.
